The Babe and the Beast: A Parody
by PrincessMickey13
Summary: Disney's Beauty and the Beast, all effed up for your entertainment. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

The Babe and the Beast

A Parody

Once upon a time, in a faraway land (aka some distant part of France), there was a castle. Inside this castle lived a nameless prince who was a spoiled brat. His nonexistent parents let him have all the parties and ho's he wanted, but he was unsatisfied with all that he had. In other words, this kid was a total jerk who only cared about himself. One winter's night, since the power had gone out at the castle, the prince decided to do the one thing he knew how to do best: throw a huge rave party. He invited everyone in the kingdom except for one person, the town's local enchantress. More than a little offended at the lack of an invite, the enchantress decided to spank some sense into the brat and went to crash the party. As a decoy, she disguised herself as an old beggar woman in ragged clothes. She realized she had made a huge mistake after she trudged twenty miles through the blizzard to reach the castle. Once she did, she was in the first stages of hypothermia and her feet were blackened with frostbite. Anyway, when she knocked on the door of the castle, the party bouncer answered and refused to let her in. The enchantress, already pissed off from walking through the blizzard, simply punched the man out (and succeeded in breaking all of the bones in her arm, as she was still disguised as an old woman). The prince came over to see what all of the commotion was about, and the enchantress asked him if she could be invited to the party. He responded quite understandably:

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my castle?"

This pissed the enchantress off even more, and so she lost her temper and revealed her true self to the prince. This greatly troubled him, and he tried to explain that her invite to the party had gotten lost in the mail, but the enchantress would have none of it. As revenge, she transformed him into a beast and turned all of his servants into household appliances. She also gave him a rose and a mirror as an insult to remind him of how ugly he was. The rose also had magical powers of staying alive for lengthy periods of time, and would stay alive until he turned twenty-one. If he could learn to truly love another person without getting her into bed with him first (thus earning her love in return), then the spell would be broken. If he failed, he would remain a beast forever and would never throw another party again. As the years passed, he fell into a deep despair, for how could he ever learn to live without his ho's?


	2. Part 1

(A/N: Hey guys! I realized that turning a 1½-hour movie into a parody is a difficult thing to do, especially when I would like to keep updating bits and pieces. So, I am dividing this fic up into several parts; hopefully that doesn't take away from the humor. Please leave a review! Thanks!)

Part 1

-Some Years Later, A Few Miles Away-

The scene opened to show a small cottage, complete with a watermill and a thatched roof. Birds chirped and flew past, and a light breeze rolled by, rustling the trees. Suddenly the door of the cottage opened, and a beautiful young woman wearing a blue dress with a white apron strolled out, a basket under one arm. She skipped down the steps, tucking a stray lock of her brown hair behind an ear. It was such a charming scene—

_Splat!_

"HEY!" The woman snapped, glaring at the sky. "Watch it, you dumb birds! You almost hit me!"

"Sorry!" the birds chirped in reply.

The woman continued on her way, heading into the small town that was only a few yards away from her own house. As soon as she set foot into the village square, she began to belt a song that she had made up off the top of her head.

"_Seven a.m., waking up in the morning; gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs! Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal; seeing everything, the time is goin' –"_

"Dear Lord, is that Belle again?" A man stuck his head out of the window of the bakery at the sound of the horrible song. "Hey! Belle! Do us all a favor and shut the hell up!" Several passers-by muttered to themselves in agreement, but Belle paid them no mind. She went on skipping through the town, singing while people hurled tomatoes and other fruits at her, but she skillfully danced around them, having learned how to do so after the first time she came into town.

"Oh, Belle…" One man sighed dreamily as she passed, now shaking her fanny to the beat in her head. "I don't care if you are the weirdest gal in town, you're so damn HOT!" His wife promptly smacked him across the face with her rolling pin.

Belle headed further down the street, entering the local bookstore. "Finally! It took me three choruses to get here, but I finally made it!" She threw the door open and bounded into the shop. "Bonjour, unnamed bookkeeper!"

"Ah, Belle!" the old man turned to smile at her. Unlike the majority of the male population in the French town, he had been immune to feminine charms for a long while now. "Have you set up that date with Andre, yet?"

"Uh…about that," Belle said with a sheepish smile, "He decided to get back together with his ex-boyfriend. Sorry."

"Dammit…" the old man cursed. I _did_ say he was immune to feminine charms.

"Anyway, so you got any new books yet?" Belle asked, rummaging through the shelves. "I finished _The Best of Stephen King_ yesterday, and I gotta tell you, it was freakin' awesome!"

The old man made a face as Belle tossed book after book over her shoulder, completely ruining his hours of hard work. "Nothing since yesterday—wait, are you trying to tell me you've read every book in this whole store? Damn, girl!" He shook his head in disbelief, and then retrieved a book from one of the other shelves. "Here, read this one again—it's your favorite, remember?"

"Oh, yes," Belle mused, glancing at the title: _Voodoo for Dummies._ "I do need to freshen up on my voodoo abilities. I'm just gonna keep this, 'kay?" With that, she skipped out of the bookstore, her stolen book in hand. The bookkeeper sighed.

"I swear, there's something not quite right about that girl…"

-Outside, A Little Further Into Town-

Up in the sky, several geese flew overhead, the flock forming a perfect V shape. They amused themselves by creating other shapes, like a circle, a triangle, and then a shape that several of the younger geese found hilarious while the adults gave them withering looks. It seemed perfectly normal and fine until—

_BANG!_

"Auuuuuugh! I'm hit! I'm hit! Maydayyyyy!" One goose honked, spiraling down toward the ground as well as his death. The other geese, upon seeing this, all cheered in gratitude, as the unfortunate fowl had been the most annoying of the flock.

A small, stocky man came running out into the street after the gunshot, holding in front of him a sack that was intended for carrying game birds. "Don't you worry, Gaston! I've got this!" he called out, thrusting the bag forward to catch his prize.

_Crash!_ The man had missed his target by about twenty feet.

"Oh, geez." Another man, who was quite large and muscular, clapped a hand to his forehead in disgust as the fat man scrambled to recover.

"Man, you didn't miss a _single shot_, Gaston!" he complimented the muscled man, who dusted off his rifle. "You're the best! The awesomest! The coolest! The strongest! The smartest! The –"

"Oh, please. Tell me something I don't know," Gaston said smugly, giving the smaller man a pat on the back that knocked him off his feet. Gaston then grabbed the man roughly by the collar and hoisted him clear off the ground. "You're absolutely right, though, LeFou! I AM the best!" Gaston declared. "I deserve the best of everything! That's why I've decided that I'm going to marry the prettiest gal here in France!" He pointed off down the road, where Belle stood talking to another townsperson.

"Her? But her father's the inventor! Everyone knows he's a crackhead!" LeFou gasped.

Gaston dropped LeFou like a hot potato, causing him to tumble unceremoniously to the ground. "Dude, she's a _hottie!_ You don't see girls _that_ hot every day, so she's obviously the one meant for me! She's the best!" He glared down at LeFou. "And I alone deserve the best!"

"But she's—"

"The BEST!"

-A Bit Later-

Belle headed back to her house, reading her book while she walked, unknowingly trodding through horse manure, trash, and other such waste. So immersed she was in her reading material that she didn't notice. However, she did happen to notice when her book was rudely snatched from her hands. Instantly she whirled around, her fist extended to make contact with the culprit.

_Wham!_

"Owwie! My beautiful, manly face!" Gaston yelped, holding his cheek in pain.

"That's why you don't take things that aren't yours," Belle explained calmly, lowering her fist. "Now gimme back my book."

"Slow down there, girlie," Gaston said, rubbing his face to ease the pain. "I wanted to have a look first." He began flipping through the pages, a frown appearing on his face. "Whoa! How the hell can you read this? What is this foreign language?"

"You're reading it upside down, dumbass."

"Oh." Gaston flipped the book the right way and continued to look through it. "What the crap is this? There's no pretty pictures anywhere!" He chucked the book over his shoulder where it promptly landed in a pile of horse manure behind him. "It's time you dumbed yourself down to my level and became my baby-momma, Belle. Any girl would _love_ to be in your shoes!" He gestured to several of his fangirls nearby, who instantly began shrieking and throwing themselves at him, only to be held back by an iron barricade and several bulky men in suits and shades.

"Uh…" Belle made her way around Gaston to retrieve her book, which had sunk about an inch in the manure. She used her apron to carefully fish the book out, making a vain attempt to clean it while Gaston kept on talking.

"I mean, it's not right for women to read! Pretty soon you'll be wanting to vote, then wanting to raise a family on your own, and then you'll be complaining that a woman should be running the country!" Gaston shook his head. "I mean, come on, one Hilary Clinton is bad enough! Don't go adding to _that_ population!"

"You are so sexist," Belle muttered, making a face at the stains that were now left on her apron.

Gaston lifted his arms and flexed, hoping that Belle was watching. "You know, I've got a great idea! Why don't you and I head on over to my place and have ourselves a little TLC—"

"_What?"_ Belle sputtered. "Hell no! Do you think I'm stupid? Besides, I have to go home and make sure that my father doesn't kill himself with another one of his disastrous inventions."

"That crazy old buffoon?" LeFou asked, popping up out of nowhere and scaring the crap out of Belle and Gaston, who jumped about eight feet into the air and shrieked. Gaston, that is, not Belle, jumped and shrieked.

"Don't DO that!" Gaston hissed, smacking the smaller man and sending him flying into the same pile of manure that Belle's book had landed in. Belle took this distraction as an opportunity to run like hell.

"Later, losers!" She called as she took off down the road. Neither Gaston nor LeFou noticed her.

-At Belle's House, Minutes Later-

Belle walked up to her house, stopping to admire the scene. "Ah, it's times like this where I just like to stand here and enjoy the peaceful serenity of my family's property, passed down from generation to gener—"

_Ka-BOOOOOOM!_

"Dammit, Papa, what the hell did you do this time?" Belle grumbled, crawling out from the small crater she'd made when the explosion sent her flying. She quickly walked over to the cellar of the house, where large, noxious black fumes were smoking. Belle hoisted the heavy door open, hearing loud coughs and curses. "Papa?"

"What in the hell happened to this—damn—urgh!" Belle's father, Maurice, heaved himself out from a man-shaped hole in the wall, still cursing. He ran over to the large contraption in the room, which was still smoking. Parts of it were even on fire. Maurice grabbed the fire extinguisher from the wall and began to douse the flames. Once the fire was gone, Maurice looked the machine over, inspecting it for the problem that had caused the explosion. "Okay, who the _fudge_ threw the damn wrench into the engine?"

"Oh, Papa," Belle said softly, "You probably did it yourself." She walked over and looked at the machine. "What is this piece of junk, anyway?"

"This is going to be the greatest invention in the entire history of the world, that's what!" Maurice said, his expression smug. Just then, the machine creaked and the collapsed entirely, leaving nothing but a pile of splintered wood and iron bolts. "Er…well, it _would_ have been, if the damn thing didn't keep blowing up on me," Maurice sighed, kicking the heap of junk.

Belle put her hand on her father's shoulder. "Don't worry, Papa. I'm sure you can fix it; you can fix anything! You'll be a world-renowned inventor once you win first prize at the fair tomorrow!"

Maurice glanced at his daughter, raising an eyebrow. "You really think so?"

Belle shrugged. "Eh. Thought I should say something so you didn't start crying like a little girl."

'Damn brat,' Maurice thought to himself, 'she's always putting me down for one thing or another. I'll show her!' "Well, what am I waiting for, then? I'll fix this thing up in _no_ time!" With that, Maurice set to work to repair the machine.

-Several Hours Later-

"Why won't this…damn thing…oh, _screw you!"_ Maurice flung his wrench at the destroyed machine, which looked exactly the same as when he had first started to fix it. "I give up on this pile of garbage!"

Belle yawned, looking bored. "Hey, are you going to get this scene over with or not? All of the interesting stuff happens after this scene, so if—"

"_Shhh!_ No spoilers!" Maurice hissed, looking panicked. Belle gave him a bland look.

"Papa, _everyone's_ seen this movie already—"

"Soooo, did you have a good time in town today?" Maurice asked, trying to lead the conversation in another direction.

"I got a new book," Belle said, smiling as she lifted her prize. Maurice looked suspicious.

"How much did you pay for it? If you spent our food money on another damn book, I swear I'll—"

"Oh, don't be silly, Papa," Belle laughed. "I got a discount. The five finger discount!"

Maurice sighed. "Oh, well that's a relief." Suddenly it dawned on him. "Hey, wait a minute…"

"Papa," Belle said, her face very serious. "Do you think I'm…odd?"

"Well, _duh!"_ Maurice exclaimed, causing Belle to jump upward in surprise. "You spend all your time reading books instead of being in the kitchen like a normal woman, so it's no wonder people would—er, uh, I mean, MY daughter? Odd? Who told you that? Have you been looking yourself up on Google again? I told you already, the Internet is all lies!"

Belle sighed. "It's just that I don't really fit in here. Ever since I told the townspeople that I liked Pepsi more than Coca-Cola, I get the feeling that they go out of their way to _avoid _me."

"What about that one fellow, Gaston?" Maurice asked, giving up on his contraption and instead walking over to a chair and taking a seat. "You know, the one who's always sending you boxes of chocolate and rose bouquets and pictures of himself on leopard skin rugs? He's a handsome fellow."

"Oh, he's handsome, alright," Belle agreed, "but since I'm the heroine, I have higher standards than that." She sighed again and looked to the side. "Besides, I'm waiting for my eHarmony results to come in before I make a decision."

"Eh, well I wouldn't worry too much about what the townspeople think," Maurice said, standing up and walking back over to his 'invention.' "After all, this majestic creation is going to be the beginning of a new life for us! And by us, I mean me," he added under his breath.

Belle eyed the pile of junk that Maurice was gesturing to. "So, what is that, exactly? And how is it going to change our lives? It just looks like a heap of trash to me."

"See, that's the wonder of it!" Maurice laughed while desperately trying to think up an idea. "It may _look_ like a trash heap, but it's not just _any_ trash heap! This particular trash heap contains…uh…" Maurice rummaged through the pile and came up with a plank of wood. "See this board? It provides endless hours of entertainment for you and your dog! You throw it; he catches it, and brings it back to you! What fun!" Maurice smiled cheesily while Belle simply raised an eyebrow.

"…What kind of idiot would want that?"

"Oh, screw it!" With that, he angrily hurled the plank across the room, where it accidentally hit Belle in the face and knocked her to the ground, unconscious. "Oh crap! Belle? Are you okay?" Maurice ran over to check his daughter, who was knocked out cold. Maurice jumped back, seemingly shocked by his actions. _Seemingly._

"Oh, _sweet! _Now I can make my escape!" With that, Maurice quickly gathered up his belongings (as well as nicking Belle's wallet while he was at it) and, after hitching up a wagon-type thing to the family's horse, Philippe, ran for the hills.

-Deep In The Forest, With Maurice-

Maurice rode through the countryside, tying Philippe's reins to the sides of the cart and pulling out his crossword puzzle book to pass the time. He was just deciding whether 21 down was 'waffle' or 'wafers' when he became aware that the sky had grown quite dark and he would soon have to use the lantern to see the book.

"Okay, lantern…hm, let's see…where the hell did I put those matches? Oh! Found 'em!" He struck the match, but it was a little too close to his face and he accidentally lit his moustache on fire. Shrieking in pain and fear, he began smacking himself in the face in an effort to douse the flames. It surprisingly worked. On his second take, he successfully lit the lantern, but to his dismay, he realized that he had dropped his crossword puzzles in the dirt during his struggle.

"Oh, phooey!" he grumbled, slumping down in the seat. Then he realized that he was traveling on a creepy, spooky dark path, and an owl hooting ominously in the distance. "Ah, crap," he whimpered. "Where the hell are we, Philippe?"

"How should I know?" the horse neighed back. "I told you we should have stopped to ask for directions, but _nooooo_—"

"Just shut up and help me figure out where we are!" Maurice barked, kicking Philippe from behind. The action caused Philippe to freak and rear up on his hind legs, taking off at a breakneck speed. Suddenly the two found themselves at the edge of a cliff.

"_Eeeeek! _Oh, sweet Jesus! Please don't let me die, I haven't even had time to enjoy my freedom yet!" Maurice squealed, clutching the reins for dear life. Philippe backed away from the cliff edge and was able to turn back around. Maurice let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank the heavens! Now let's get the hell out of here!"

"Sounds good to me!" Philippe whinnied, and then took off again, but this time, Maurice wasn't prepared for the sudden motion, and so tumbled off of the cart and onto the ground. Philippe was soon gone with the wind.

Maurice stood up, dusting himself off. "Dumb horse…knew I shouldn't have traded my mint condition Darth Tater for it." He sniffled a bit as he remembered his beloved toy. Just then, there was an ominous growling sound in the distance. Maurice turned around, startled, and saw a pack of wolves on the distant hillside. "Ohhhhhhhhh, _FUDGE."_

The wolves then made a beeline for him, their yellow eyes glowing sinisterly in the dark. Maurice ran for his life, and the wolves quickly discovered that Maurice, while lacking in other departments, excelled in the subtle art of _running the hell away._

"Oof!" Maurice suddenly tripped on a tree root and went tumbling town a hill that had appeared out of nowhere. He looked up and saw that he had arrived at the front of a dingy-looking castle, complete with old and outdated Halloween decorations. "What the hell? Since when has there been a kingdom in this part of France? This doesn't make any sense!"

Just then, the wolves made their appearance again, growling and drooling at the top of the hill that Maurice had just fallen down. Instantly Maurice turned back to the castle and bolted to the gate. He grabbed the iron bars and shook them violently. "Help! Help! Someone please let me in! I don't wanna die, I don't wanna—" The gates swung open, causing Maurice to fall forward and into the castle grounds. He quickly scrambled to his feet and kicked the gate shut, hitting several of the wolves in the face. "Ha! How'd you like _that,_ suckers? Boo-yah!" He began to do a victory dance, which included flashing peace signs and shaking his rear at the wolves, which scared them off quite well.

Maurice then turned his attention back to the castle, which, now that he had time to look at it, actually looked quite creepy and menacing. To complete the image of 'haunted castle', a clap of thunder sounded and it began to rain buckets. Geez, cliché much?

Gulping, Maurice ran up to the castle doors and pounded a fist on them, hoping that the butler wouldn't be a douche and kick him out for not having an invite. The castle door swung open, and Maurice cautiously walked inside. Shivering (more from fear than the cold), he paused to examine the vaulted ceilings and expensive artifacts within the building. Off to the left, a lone table with a candelabra and a clock stood, very out of place with the rest of the room. "Helloooo?" Maurice called out. Instantly, soft muttering could be heard.

"Who is that?"

"Perhaps he's another drug dealer—"

"Look, I'm in, uh, kind of a fix here," Maurice tried to explain. "See, uh, I was ditching my daughter—er, I mean, abandoning my child—no! I was…_heading off to the fair_ when I got lost in the woods and stumbled upon this here castle! So, if you don't mind, I'm just going to move in—I mean, stay the night."

"Oh, _hell _n—"

Suddenly the candelabra on the table jabbed the clock with one of its candlestick arms, causing the clock to gasp as the air was knocked out of it. I have no idea how the hell that's possible, but just keep reading. "Of course, monsieur, you are welcome here! We charge eighty US dollars per evening, not including tax, and we serve complimentary breakfast! Enjoy your stay!"

Maurice stood there, frozen in shock. "Wha…what the f… a talking candlestick?" he yelped. The candelabra sighed.

"Yeah, it's a long story. Our master was a douche to some old lady, and now we're inanimate objects, so to speak. Makes you really regret parking in the handicapped spot, you know?" The candelabra sighed. "Anyway, I'm Lumiere, and this clock here is Cogsworth—_bleep!"_

"Shut up, you idiot!" Cogsworth had regained some of his breath and stomped hard on Lumiere's…feet. "We don't know who this creep is! He could be another one of those crazy salespeople! He—ah!"

Maurice had picked up Cogsworth and was inspecting him with a careful eye. "How in the hell is this accomplished? Maybe I can take credit for it…" he thought, dollar signs flashing in his eyes as he pictured how rich and famous he would become if people thought that he was able to bring inanimate objects to life. "Oh, yeah…suck on that, George Romero!" he declared.

"Um…what?" Cogsworth asked.

"Oh, er, nothing."

"Well, if you don't _mind,"_ Cogsworth said, rudely slapping Maurice's probing hands (damn, that sounds dirty) away from his…body. Geez, why do I even bother?

"I do apologize," Maurice said, "but as I said before, I was—I, uh—ah…ah-_CHOO!"_ Maurice suddenly let out a huge sneeze, sending snot flying all over Cogsworth's face, and then dropping him abruptly to the ground with a loud _clang!_ Lumiere just laughed at the whole spectacle.

"Oh, you are _soaked_ from the rain! Here, please come into the den to await your doom—I mean, warm yourself by the fire!" Lumiere began hopping toward the den, followed by Maurice. Cogsworth was busy retching off in the corner, trying to rid himself of the phlegm on his face.

Lumiere led Maurice over to the fireplace in the den, which was a relatively empty room except for a few tables and oil paintings, as well as a large La-Z-Boy positioned right in front of the fire. "Now, please, make yourself right at home! We have a large selection of reading material, as well as 92 channels of cable TV!"

"Just hold on one minute!" Cogsworth barked, hopping into the room whilst wiping the corner of his mouth. "We can't just have random strangers barging in here whenever they want! This is in violation of Rule Number Two-Seventy-Four, which, may I remind you, states—AUGH!"

A dinner cart came zooming into the room at that moment, running Cogsworth over and effectively shutting him up. An old teapot as well as several teacups and a pitcher of milk and sugar sat upon the cart, with the teapot smiling pleasantly up at Maurice (who was staring at the spectacle with a 'What in the hell is going on here?' expression). "How would you like a nice spot of tea, sir? It'll warm you up in no time!"

"Er, well, uh, do you have anything stronger than tea?" Maurice asked. "Like…vodka, or tequila? I need something hard so that I can forget about all of this later."

"Sir, need I remind you that this fic is only rated 'Teen'?" the teapot hissed, looking panicked. "Think of the _children!"_

"Mama, what's vodka?" One of the teacups asked curiously.

"I told you, Chip, vodka is like the monsters that live under your bed," the teapot soothed. "It's not real. Okay?" The teacup shrugged and paid the matter no more mind.

Maurice, meanwhile, had decided to sit himself down in the comfortable-looking La-Z-Boy. "Ah, now _this_ is what I call a vacation! No daughter to—hey, what's this?" He realized that he had sat down on a magazine of sorts. "Hm, I wonder what this could - _holymothereffingcrapit'salimitededitionPlayboy!_ _Whistle_!" Maurice instantly flipped open the magazine full of naughtiness and began to browse it with spellbound curiosity. Upon seeing what Maurice was looking at, Lumiere began to panic.

"Monsieur! I warn you, looking at that without the Master's permission will be _very bad _for you!"

"Oh, please. What's the worst that could happen?" Maurice scoffed. Just then, alarms started ringing throughout the castle. "…I had to ask."

Just then, the doors to the den flew open very forcefully, and a sinister-looking, shadowy beast-like creature stalked into the room, eyes glowing creepily. Maurice huddled in the chair, realizing that he would very soon need a change of pants. The objects all cowered in fear together while the Beast walked around the room, looking at one of the tables that held more Playboys. "One of my magazines is missing," the Beast growled, turning to glare at Maurice.

"Master, give me a chance to explain," Lumiere began in a shaky voice, "You see, this fellow here was lost in the woods, and I thought—"

"Silence!" the Beast barked. "No excuses! I _hate_ excuses! Even more than I hate the Jersey Shore!" The Beast got up Maurice's face. "Who are you? And who the hell let you in here?" Maurice gagged.

"Dude…your breath…really _reeks,"_ he managed to get out before the Beast dumped him brusquely from the La-Z-Boy, still looking pissed. Maurice looked up at the Beast, getting a good full look at him (though the audience was still kept in the dark), "E-gads! You're one ugly mo-fo! Hasn't anyone ever told you to _shave_ once in a while? And put a shirt on, there are _ladies _present!"

"Shut up! Don't _judge _me!" the Beast snapped, a bit hurt. "And look who's friggin' talking about shaving. I mean, come on! I can't tell if that's a moustache or a dead animal on your face! Gawd!" The Beast hoisted Maurice up off of the ground, glowering. "It looks like I have no choice…"

"Oh, dear Lord! Please don't eat me!" Maurice sobbed in fear. "Or rape me! Please, anything but that!"

"Wha—I'm not gonna rape you, old man! Geez! I'm not into bestiality, okay?" the Beast sighed and karate-chopped Maurice's neck, successfully knocking the old man out cold. The Beast then slung Maurice over his shoulder and looked back at the objects, who were staring at him in fear. "Alright, no one breathes a word of this to _anyone,_ got it? You do, and I swear on everything that is holy and sacred to man that when I'm through with you, the police won't even be able to find your _shadows."_

"Yes, sir!" The objects quickly went back to their duties as the Beast took Maurice off, the old man's fate unknown as the scene faded to black.


	3. Part 2

Part 2

-The Next Day, Just Outside Belle's House-

Gaston and LeFou were crouched in the bushes across the street from Belle's house, LeFou practically drooling with excitement. After all, today was the day!

"Okay," LeFou whispered into Gaston's ear, his voice low and sultry, "first, we take off our clothes, and then—"

_Whack!_

"This fic is rated 'Teen' for a reason, dumbass," Gaston said coolly, dusting his knuckles off with care. "We're not here for that, anyway, remember?"

LeFou nodded, rubbing his bleeding head. "Oh, yeah! I almost forgot! Belle's gonna get the surprise of her life today!" LeFou turned to look at the fancy decorations and tables set up in the small meadow behind them, clearly showing that a celebration was about to take place.

"Yup! This is her lucky day!" Gaston said cheerfully. "I even wore my _special _leather, just for her!" He gestured to his outfit, which looked something like what Michael Jackson's 'Bad' outfit was, complete with the weird metal hoops and studded belt across the waist. Gaston had also taken the liberty of adding some embellishments to the outfit, which included a hot pink feather boa draped around his shoulders and some jewels bedazzled onto the groin area of the leather. _Eesh._ And I thought that Lady Gaga's outfits were terrible. Ignoring the author's disgust, Gaston turned to the people gathered around the tables and cleared his throat as he prepared to speak.

"My dearest friends!" Gaston boomed. "It is with great pleasure and honor that I welcome you and thank you for coming to my wedding! I would first like to tell you all that if you wish to take pictures, please, only use the _left_ side of my face. Also, any pictures of the bride are prohibited unless there is whipped cream involved. Got it?"

LeFou tapped Gaston's knee, since that was the only part of his body that he could reach. "Uh, Gaston, shouldn't you have proposed to Belle _before_ organizing a giant wedding party? It just seems a bit…I don't know, unorthodox?"

Gaston guffawed loudly and gave a LeFou a solid pat on the back that sent him flying across the yard. "Aha! Thanks for reminding me, LeFou! I SHOULD probably go ask Belle to join me!" He paused and looked thoughtful. "Unless she's already anticipated this and wants to skip the vows and get right to—"

"Hurry up! Daylight's wasting!" LeFou urged from the patch of poison ivy he had landed in, cutting off Gaston's naughty train of thought. "Just go get her!"

-Inside The House, With Belle-

Belle sat at the family table, reading her book that she had 'borrowed' from the bookstore and nursing her injured forehead with a bag of ice. "I swear, when Papa gets back here, he's not going to be able to sit down for a _week_!" she growled under her breath and she flipped through the pages, plans of revenge forming in her mind. "Hm…sewing needles seem a bit too cliché. Maybe I should try a chainsaw—"

_Ding-dong!_

"Aha! My Amazon order of _World Domination 101 _must have finally shipped!" Belle said, carefully marking her place in her book before skipping over to the door. She reached above the doorknob to grab hold of a nifty looking device, which allowed her to see who the guest was before she let them into the house.

"I invented the peep-hole _before _it was cool!" Hipster-Maurice suddenly popped up in the corner of the screen and adjusted his glasses before winking at the audience. Belle kicked him away and peered into the device. It was none other than…

"For the last time, I DON'T want to learn about Jehovah's Witnesses!" Belle snapped, throwing open the door and kicking the man that stood there in the groin. He went down like a ton of bricks, clutching his privates in agony.

"Gahh! Dear Lord, I think I've just been sterilized!" he gasped out. Belle looked down and realized her mistake.

"Oh! Gaston!" she cried in surprise, "…you _totally _deserved that!"

Gaston clawed his way to his feet, his eyes crossed with pain, though he was still trying to smile flirtatiously at Belle. The effort made him look like he had taken one too many happy pills. "There's no time I WON'T flirt with a woman! Hey there, Belle! Long time no see! How're you doing, hot stuff?"

"Uh…fine," Belle answered cautiously as Gaston pushed his way rudely into her house. "I mean, it's an off day when I don't get _someone _invading my home, but—"

"WHOA!" Gaston interrupted, shoving Belle away and racing across the room. "Who's THAT cutie? Baby got _back!"_ He whistled appreciatively as Belle picked herself off of the ground and glared at him. "Oh. Wait. That's just a mirror. Damn." Gaston made a disappointed sound and turned back to Belle. "Anyway, Belle, I've come to tell you the big news!"

"Big news?" Belle raised an eyebrow. "You got accepted onto the cast of The Bachelorette?"

"Well, yes," Gaston admitted, "But I turned them down. Do you know why, Belle?"

"_OhdearGodno…"_ Belle whispered, feeling sick.

"—Because I've decided that YOU'RE the only woman for me!" Gaston finished, smiling cheesily as Belle ran to the bathroom to lose her lunch. "I can picture it now! Me, coming home after a long day of hunting to find you in my bathtub, waiting for me to—"

"In your _dreams_!" Belle snapped, wiping her mouth as she walked back into the room.

"No, actually, in my dreams we're on a white-sand beach in Waikiki—"

"OOOOOOUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTT!" Belle violently kicked Gaston out of the house and slammed the door. Gaston went flying across the yard and landed in a mud puddle. LeFou ran over to see what all the commotion was, concerned about his friend. Or so it seemed.

"What'd she say, Gaston? Huh? Ooh! I bet she turned you down _flat,_ huh? Is that what happened, Gaston? Did she say no and you're just too embarrassed to admit it? Huh?"

Gaston sat upright and grinned dorkily, his eyes sparkling and little birds flying around his head. "What a woman!" he said dreamily, standing up and tottering off. The wedding guests all looked at each other.

"What are we supposed to do now?" One man called out.

"Yeah, I thought we were supposed to have a party!" Another one yelled.

LeFou looked thoughtful as he rubbed his chin, checking for stubble. Nothing. Damn. "Well, John's birthday is next week," he said, gesturing to a young man in the back of the group. Instantly cheers went up all around, and people resumed the celebration.

-About An Hour Later-

Belle cautiously peeked outside, ready to turn tail and find a suitable hiding place if the need was there. "Is he gone?" she asked aloud. Once she determined that she would be safe, Belle walked outside and began to speak to her animals as though they were people. "Can you believe it? That freak wants me to _marry _him! The nerve! I just can't stomach the idea of being married to someone so obviously handsome and in love with me! _Eugh!"_ Belle gagged but managed to keep her food down. She turned and began to run dramatically into the nearby field while emotive music played. It would have been a very powerful, moving scene had she not tripped on a tree root halfway through.

_Crash!_

"Dammit! Stupid tree root!" Belle sat up and glowered. "Ruined my dramatic scene! Gawd!"

Just then, there was a whinny of alarm. Belle looked started as the family horse, Philippe, made his appearance, galloping at a breakneck speed through the clearing and almost running her down. Luckily, Belle dived out of the way just in time. "What the hell? Philippe! What are you doing here? I thought we sold you off _years_ ago!" Belle wondered. Suddenly it hit her. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Come on! I know you're not that stupid!" Philippe said, raising his hind leg in preparation to give Belle another kick.

"_Bleep_ you!" Belle cursed and rubbed the bruise on her head. "Oh! Wait! I've got it! If you're here, that means that Papa must have traded something useless to get you back! Which _means…_" she paused dramatically, "that you must have ditched him somewhere along the way! Come on!" Belle jumped onto Philippe's back. "Take me to him! Revenge, my old friend, here I come!"

-A Few Hours Later-

Philippe led Belle through the forest until they came upon the very castle that Maurice had found earlier. Wait, how did Philippe know where it was? Didn't he run away and leave when Maurice was still, like, half a mile away? What—_forget it._ Just read on!

Belle looked up at the castle, not able to hide her fear. "What _is _this place? It _totally_ needs an Extreme Home Makeover!" Suddenly she caught sight of something familiar down by the gate. "Wait…that's Papa's hat!" She leapt off of Philippe and barged past the gate, scooping up the hat, which was a fluorescent pink sombrero with little red puffballs hanging from the brim. She looked up at the castle. "But why on earth would he come here? Did he really think I would be scared of a haunted castle? Ha!" Chuckling to herself, Belle trudged up to the castle doors, not knowing what she would find.

-Inside The Castle, With Lumiere And Cogsworth!-

Lumiere had a bored expression on his face, his eyes half-open and a small bit of drool coming out of the corner of his mouth. Cogsworth had been lecturing him for the past hour or two, though Lumiere had stopped listening after about five minutes.

"…You can't just invite people in like that, Lumiere! How many times have we had to tell you that?" Cogsworth didn't bother waiting for an answer. "Like, a _gazillion _times! Didn't you learn _anything _in grade school?! Stranger danger!"

"Kill me now," Lumiere groaned, burying his face into his candlestick-hands as Cogsworth continued ranting.

-Back With Belle!-

Belle looked around the front room of the castle, her jaw dropping slightly at the sight. While the outside of the castle was pretty dingy, the inside was breathtaking. And by breathtaking, I mean there was so much dust and mildew everywhere that it made it almost impossible to breathe.

"Papa?" Belle called out tentatively, trying not to inhale too deeply. "Are you here? This isn't funny! I swear, if you're playing a joke, I'm going to sell all of your _Seventeen_ magazines!" Silence met her warning. "Damn, this must be serious. Where the hell is he?" Belle wandered up a staircase, actually starting to grow a bit worried.

-In The Kitchens-

Mrs. Potts was busy bathing in the sink along with several other dishes, who were all shouting and cheering as they watched a wrestling match on the television that was next to the sink. She shook her head and sighed deeply. "I swear, the things that people watch nowadays…" Suddenly one of the wrestlers on the screen let out a yell as his opponent pinned him down, successfully winning the match. "Hey, Forrest! Tyrone just got pinned! You owe me sixty bucks!" Mrs. Potts declared.

"Dammit…" one of the forks cursed, handing over the dough.

"Mama! Mama!" Just then, little Chip (remember, the teacup from earlier?) came bounding into the kitchen, a big smile on his face. "Mama, guess what? There's a _girl_ in the castle!"

Mrs. Potts smiled at her son. "Now, now, Chip. What did Mama say about interrupting her favorite TV show?"

"Uh…don't?" Chip guessed.

"Ya damn right, you little brat!" Mrs. Potts snarled, causing Chip to jump away in fear. "We live in a miserable castle with a temperamental monster bossing us around, so you will NOT ruin this one joy in my life or so help me, you will cry like no child ever has before!" Mrs. Potts finished, breathing heavily and her eyes all wide and crazy-like while Chip stood there, trembling in fear. Mrs. Potts cleared her throat and then smiled pleasantly. "Now, what was it that you wanted, dear?"

"There's a girl in the castle, Mama," Chip repeated, still keeping his distance from Mrs. Potts in case she were to come after him and spank him. "I saw her with my own eyes!"

"Oh Chip, enough with those stories!" Mrs. Potts scolded lightly. "I told you before: girls are just a figment of your imagination!"

"Madame Potts!" A feather duster made her appearance, speaking like a media portrayal of a slutty French maid. "I just saw a girl in ze castle! And not just any girl; she's a _heroine! _How about zat?" The feather duster paused and looked into the camera. "Can my accent get any more stereotypical?"

"See?" Chip said confidently. "I _told_ you I wasn't making it up."

-With Lumiere And Cogsworth-

"Irresponsible, ill-mannered, feather-brained, stuck-up…" Cogsworth was busy bashing Lumiere while Lumiere had completely given up on listening and was fast asleep, snoring like a jackhammer. "You disgust me! How can you—"

"Papa?"

The voice caught Cogsworth so off-guard that he stopped speaking, and the sudden absence of his annoying voice woke Lumiere with a start. "_Hrronk-_nagah? What was that?" Just then, Belle walked by the room that Lumiere and Cogsworth were in, though she didn't notice them and continued walking down the hall. Instantly Lumiere shoved Cogsworth out of the way (and off the table) and raced to the doorway to get a better look, ignoring the tremendous crash that Cogsworth made as he hit the floor. "_Mama-sita! _Look at that girl! She's a _hottie!"_

"Back off, Romeo! I saw her first!" Cogsworth growled as he hopped over to the doorway, a large lump forming on his head.

"She's the one!" Lumiere wrapped his arm around Cogsworth's shoulders. "She's the girl we've been waiting for! She's the stripper that the Master ordered!" He pressed his candlestick-hands together in glee. "Oh, joy! The day has finally come!"

"Hold your horses!" Cogsworth snapped, being a buzz kill. "The company doesn't _send _us strippers anymore. Remember?"

Lumiere deflated a bit. "Oh…right…" Suddenly a light bulb lit up above Lumiere's head. "Wait a minute! Then she's the _other _one we've been waiting for! She has come to break the spell!" Lumiere again shoved Cogsworth out of the way and bolted down the hallway after Belle.

"One day…" Cogsworth muttered to himself as he slid slowly down the wall, "I _will_ kill him."

-With Belle!-

Belle continued down the hallways of the castle, searching in vain for her father. The hallways had fake skeletons and cobwebs everywhere, and a tape playing the theme from 'Halloween' was on repeat throughout her trek. Belle wasn't sure whether to be creeped out or embarrassed by the owner of the castle, whoever he/she was.

"Papa? Seriously, joke's over! Come out, now!" she called out, when suddenly a door to her right swung open, a mysterious light emerging from the doorway. "Is that you, Papa?" she asked tentatively, noticing that the light (which was actually Lumiere) was moving away from inside the door that had opened. Yeah, _that's _not freaky at all. Belle, however, assumed that the light belonged to a person who would know where her father was. "Wait, come back! I'm looking for my father! He's hard to miss, he's fat and old and has some _serious_ fashion issues…"

Belle followed the light up a staircase, unaware that it was coming from a talking candlestick. "Papa? Where the hell are you? Oh, wait. I've got an idea." She paused and then took a deep breath. "Maaaaaarco?"

"Polo?" Came the faint reply. Belle raced up the staircase and into what looked like a dungeon. Maurice was in one of the cells, his face pale and gaunt. "Belle? Is that you?"

"Papa!" Belle rushed over to her father, who was coughing and shivering, not to mention having long since wet himself. "Who did this to you? I'll kick their ass!"

"No, Belle…" Maurice weakly insisted. "You must…you must leave…save yourself…"

"Well, alright." Belle turned to leave.

"_Hey!"_ Maurice barked. "You're supposed to be like, 'No, not without you', and crap like that!"

"Okay, okay! I was just kidding," Belle grumbled, reluctantly heading back over to the cell.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" A voice suddenly boomed throughout the dungeon, and succeeded in scaring the crap out of Belle and Maurice.

"Who the hell are you?" Belle demanded, struggling to get her heart beating again. She looked around for the owner of the voice, but could only see a hulky shadow (which the audience recognized as the Beast).

"This is my castle, bi-otch! _I _ask the questions here!" the Beast snapped. "What the hell do you think you're doing, anyway, trespassing on my property? I'll sue your ass!" Belle, however, would have none of the shouting.

"The hell's wrong with you, freako? Why did you trap my father in this dungeon? He's an old man, for heaven's sake! You'll give him a heart attack!"

"He is my prisoner," the Beast said ominously, evading the random streams of light in the dungeon in a creepy manner. "I found him looting through my Playboy magazines, and nobody, NOBODY, messes with those!"

"Ew…" Belle gagged.

"It wasn't my fault!" Maurice protested. "They were just lying there on the table! If you were smart like I am, you would have hidden them in a trunk in the closet!" Belle turned to look at him, a disgusted expression on her face. "Er…not that I would know about that sort of thing…" he coughed.

"Anyway, there's nothing you can do to save him," the Beast continued.

"Save him? Who said anything about saving him?" Belle asked. "I came here because he ran off with my money! Pay up, old man!" She grabbed Maurice's collar through the bars and shook him violently. "Over five hundred dollars were in that wallet!"

"Owwie! Oh, God, please stop!" Maurice begged, as the shaking was likely to give him brain damage.

"Knock it off, already!" the Beast barked. "Look, if it'll make you shut up any quicker, I'll let the old man go, but you must stay and take his place."

"Whoa, back it _up!"_ Belle dropped Maurice in her surprise, causing him to crash face-first into the hard dungeon floor. "No way in hell I'm agreeing to _that! _How stupid do you think I am?"

"Stupid enough to agree even after I reveal my horrifying visage to you?" the Beast replied smugly, stepping out from the shadows and revealing his bestial nature to Belle while giving the audience their first full glimpse of him. Belle sighed.

"Damn script."

The Beast went over to Maurice and unlocked the cell door, though it took him a few moments since his…hands were bulky and clawed, making it difficult for him to get a good hold on the keys. "Okay, old man, I'll escort you downstairs where one of my servants will gladly see that you make it safely back to the villa—"

"_Whooo! _I'm outta here! Later, Belle! See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!" Maurice called over his shoulder as he raced out of the dungeon, a trail of fire in his wake.

"…That was weird." The Beast sighed and rubbed his face. It was really past time for a shave. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."

Belle was confused. "But I thought I was your prisoner. Aren't you going to keep me in here?"

"Well, if that's what you want," the Beast shrugged, turning to leave.

"Wait! Wait! I changed my mind," Belle said quickly. The Beast smirked.

"That's what I thought. Now follow me."

-A Little Bit Later-

The Beast led Belle down several hallways, using a candelabra (Lumiere, but Belle doesn't know it yet) to light the way. Belle was more than slightly freaked out when she saw that several heads were mounted on the walls (human heads, not animal) and that the Beast was talking to the candelabra. Just what the hell was going on here?

"…So anyway, that's when I came to terms with my identity as a furry," the Beast finished. Belle jerked out of her thoughts, realizing that she had not heard a word that the Beast had said.

"Er, what?"

"You'll like it here," the Beast continued. "I just hooked up Xbox 360's in the whole castle, so we can play Call of Duty wherever we go! Yippee!" He clapped his clawed hands with glee. "Oh! But not in the West Wing. That's off-limits."

"Really? How come?" Belle asked, suddenly interested.

"No Wi-Fi," the Beast said in all seriousness. Belle nodded in understanding. The Beast then turned to a door on his right and opened it, holding the door for Belle. "Get in there, wench—uh, I mean, here you are," he corrected himself as she headed inside. "My servants will assist you in any way possible."

"Does that include helping me escape?" Belle's expression brightened.

"No. No it does not."

"Oh…" Belle visibly wilted.

"Invite her to dinner," Lumiere hissed closely in the Beast's ear, very nearly singing his fur. The Beast swatted him away and looked in at Belle.

"Dinner's in ten. I hope you like Nature's Express!" the Beast cackled as he slammed the door shut. Belle whirled around and gasped in horror.

"No! Not Nature's Express! That food tastes like crap! I want a _real_ burger, not the cheap soy substitute!" Belle ran to the bed and threw herself upon the covers, sobbing her eyes out. "It's not _faaaaaaair!"_

-Back In The Village, At A Local Pub-

"Who the hell does she think she is? That girl is off-her-rocker _crazy!_ No one in their right mind would do what she did!" Gaston spat in disgust, throwing down a newspaper that had an article about Sarah Palin on the front cover. "I'm _disgraced!"_

LeFou, who was standing near the chair that Gaston was sitting in, cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, but what about Belle, sir?"

"Hm? Oh, her." Gaston waved a hand dismissively. "She'll come around. I mean, _no one _says no to Gaston!" He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles bulging and looking even more impressive. There were muffled shrieks as his fangirls pressed their faces up against the windows of the pub, trying to devour all the eye candy that they could.

"Alright, well, look," LeFou said, shrugging, "We have a slight problem. The wedding singer you booked isn't available for another six months, so if—"

"WHAT?!" Gaston jumped to his feet, shaking the entire building. "Are you serious? That bastard!"

"Hey, come on, now!" LeFou made an attempt to calm Gaston down, as several of the people in the pub were beginning to give them odd looks. "Gaston, get it together! Just find your happy place and everything will be A-okay!" LeFou then chose to cheer Gaston up not with words…but with music.

"_The sun'll come out, tomorrow! Tomorrow! Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow—"_

_Smack!_

LeFou went flying across the room and collided into several bar stools, knocking them all down (as well as the people sitting on them). Gaston pulled out a scorecard and wrote an 'X' in one of the boxes. "Strike!"

Just then, Maurice came barging into the bar room, his face pale and his eyes wide and scared-looking. "Help! Please, someone help me!" he begged.

"Maurice? What are you doing here?" the bartender asked in surprise.

"You've got to help me!" Maurice begged, shaking one of the men by the collar. "He's got Belle locked in the dungeon! He doesn't understand, it's NOT ENOUGH. She's got more skills than a ninja assassin, she'll be back here in no time!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Gaston said, grabbing Maurice and lifting him up high. "Slow down there, old man. WHO has Belle locked in a dungeon? Furthermore, why did he steal my idea?"

"_What?"_ Maurice spluttered, an indignant look on his face.

Gaston ignored him. "Who's the lucky bastard?"

"A BEAST!" Maurice cried, lifting his arms up and waving them frantically in a gesture that he hoped looked terrifying, but it only made him look like a crack-head trying to fly. "A monstrous, butt-ugly, desperately-needs-a-shave BEAST!"

There was a moment of silence where everyone in the bar just stared at Maurice. Then, suddenly, everyone in the bar began to laugh hysterically at the old man, including Gaston, who dropped Maurice on the floor with a dull _thud!_

"Maurice," one man said, trying to control his giggles, "Have you had too much sun today? Or are you on something?" He leaned in close and sniffed experimentally. Maurice shoved the man away from him.

"It's true, assholes! I'm NOT high, and I'm NOT making this up!" he growled.

"Then _describe_ the beast," another man said, snickering behind his hand. Everyone in the bar nodded, eager to hear what other crazy things Maurice had to say.

"What do you mean, 'describe' him?" Maurice snapped. "What do you THINK a beast looks like? He looks like a bigger, meaner version of Chewbacca, except with more of an under bite and he has horns. The only thing he really had going for him were his eyes, which were _dazzling._ Er, uh, I mean, he's _hideous! _It's a wonder that I didn't die simply from the _sight_ of him! Eugh!" Maurice shuddered as he remembered the Beast's revolting visage.

Gaston cleared his throat. "Well, Maurice, if everything's as true as you say it is, then of COURSE we'll help you out!"

"You will?! Oh, thank you so much!" Maurice fell at Gaston's feet, kissing them in gratitude. Gaston grimaced and gestured to some of the men, who hoisted Maurice up and threw him _out_ of the bar where he landed in a snow bank. "A-HA! I see what you did there!" Maurice chuckled to himself before the full realization hit him. "…Oh! That jerk!"

The men went back to their business, muttering to themselves in amusement. "Crazy old Maurice…he's probably doping it up again…"

Gaston stroked his clean-shaven face, suddenly deep in thought. Smoke began to seep out of his ears as the wheels in his head began to turn, rusty as they were. "Hmm…crazy old Maurice? We'll just see about that!" He turned to LeFou, who had picked himself up off the floor from where he had crashed into the bar stools. "LeFou! Come here! Remember our back-up plan we had?"

"You mean our plan where we were going to have Belle's father sent to the—"

"Yes, _that_ plan," Gaston hissed. Then he smiled sadistically. "Well, it looks like things are about to get more interesting around here…"


End file.
